I didnt mean to kill her.

The air turned black all around me.

Icy fingers gripped my arm in the
darkness.
Wandering through the graveyard it felt
like something was watching me.
The eyes in the painting follow him down
the corridor.
A shrill cry echoed in the mist
Icy wind slashed at his face and the rain
danced its evil dance upon his head as he
tried to get his bearings on the isolated
beach.
Footsteps slowly creaked on every step of
the stairs. The bedroom door handle
turned slowly.
Death lurked in every door way with hell at
one dark window.
My hair stood on end, a shiver raced down
my spine and a lump came to my throat. It
was him...

The gravestones stood silently, row upon

row like soldiers long forgotten, a scream
shattered the silence...
It was there and then it had gone, why
would a rabbit be on my bathroom floor?
Bleary-eyed, I went downstairs for
breakfast, the house was empty, even the
furniture had gone...
The lights flickered and then went off, then
the sirens started, it was coming, and we
knew it wouldnt be the last time...
The date was 13th July, my 345th
birthday... it would be my last...
Three of us. We were the only ones left,
the only ones to make it to the island.
"What have you done?" the headmaster
bellowed, all eyes now turned to me as he
stood over the lifeless body on
playground.
Dad just sat and cried. He cried for three
whole days. His face was blotchy and his
eyes were red. Then one day he just
stopped...
The clock stopped... 74 minutes past
18...it was time to get up.

The car screamed to a halt, four men

wearing masks jumped out and ran into
the nearest building, I looked around. The
street was deserted except for me.
Everything stopped; people were stood
like statues all around me, people in cars,
men on bicycles, babies in prams all
lifeless, frozen in time.
I had never seen a ghost. But like they
say, there is a first time for everything.
He opened the safe and it had gone. No
one had the code, who could have opened
it?
Grey and foreboding, the castle stood atop
the hill looking down across the small
town, in the topmost window of the
highest tower stood a small boy called...
Am I in heaven? What happened to me?
Closer and closer it came, it was getting
bigger and bigger, soon it filled the sky
above, was the moon falling?
He wandered aimlessly through the house
seeking any form of distraction to avoid
the inevitable doom. Why did it feel like he
was nearing the gallows?

Peeking through the window her surprise

turned to horror...
I woke up with a start, something was in
my room. The wardrobe doors opened
and it came out of my wardrobe.
"Witches don't exist!" My Gran's words
echoed around my head as the horrific
vision glared at me through my bedroom
window.
Keeping watch at the side of the ship,
George was tiring; his eyes weary from
constantly searching the horizon, were
they also playing tricks on him? What was
that waving from the rocks?
The two coins in his pocket clinked
together as he stumbled down the cold
pavement, the holes in his shoes turning
his feet into blocks of ice. His heart was
warmed though in the knowledge that he
was rich.
The phone rang. "Hello," I said, "Hello." No
one was there. I hung up. All the lights
went out...
Wrapped up warm against the icy fingers
of dusk, the caretaker closed the cemetery
gates, who was that watching him?

Hundreds of eyes peered at me through

the darkness in the alley. How many cats
where there? Why were they all here
together?
I heard the music as I entered the room,
but all that was there was a violin, laying
there on it's back on the bare floorboards.
It was the day the moon fell.
I couldn't believe a word he told me
anymore and why had he brought me
here?
Cold and wet, tired and exhausted she
made her way along the path through the
forest.
Everything stopped, everything a statue
all around me. Frozen in time.
"Help me!" Help me!" Came the call from
behind the steel door.
"Welcome to the future!" said the teacher
as she removed the sheet with a flourish
revealing what had been hidden beneath.
My next door neighbours, The Johnsons,
were all asleep in their coffins when I
climbed the fence to get the ball.

It moved, why was it moving? That should

not have been moving, well not on it's own
anyway.
I hadn't seen the door before. It wasn't
there last night. Cautiously, I turned the
handle.
She scratched his face from the
photograph. She would get her revenge.
It was a bright, frosty morning. The
pavement glistened like a carpet of
crushed diamonds in the early morning
sunshine.
As she walked along the street the tiny
dragon in her pocket stirred restlessly.
Just after he died, he sat up.
His metal mask shone in the sunlight, he
prayed that this would not be his last day.